There's More Than One of Everything
by changinlndscape
Summary: What if Alt-Castle found himself in our universe? Sometime after 7x06. A silly three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: THREE SHOT just for fun. What happens when Alt-Castle makes his way to our world? Sometime after 7x06.

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Rick woke with a hammering heart, a dry mouth, and the sun intermittently shining in his eyes. He blinked into the light, then straightened from his slumped over position and rubbed the stiffness out of his neck. Where was he? He glanced at his watch.

He was late for his lunch date with Captain Kate. Had he fallen asleep? How could he have fallen asleep? Well, of course he knew how, he'd been up all night playing poker and drinking whiskey, but still. He had a date with Kate, and he'd been looking forward to it. He looked around and found himself on a park bench he recognized, just off the sidewalk, not too far from the precinct. He must have stopped to sit for a second and just... fallen asleep.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and swallowed thickly. He felt oddly groggy. Man, he was getting old if one night of fun could still be kicking him around late the next afternoon. Then he glanced at his watch again. Two-thirty. That meant that he was hella late but it was early enough that she would still be at the precinct. It'd taken some doing to get her to agree to let him take her out, even just on her lunch break, he wasn't going to risk just not showing up.

This was the lady who sought him out and then turned him down. Kate had shown up at his door one day, greeting him like she knew him and not as if they were the strangers they were. But the pleased expression on her face had faded when he'd hit on her with a cheesy line and a leer, and it had disappeared completely when he was showing her around his loft. Most women liked the grandeur and the masculinity of his space, but she was left standing in the middle of it looking strangely confused. She said she must have mistaken him for someone else, that he wasn't who she thought he was.

He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around that, but she was consistently vague.

He'd chased her down the hallway as she retreated and asked her out in earnest, because she had managed to surprise him where so few women did. Because she was intriguing, and because she had a totally cool job. But she'd declined, backing into the elevator with something like loss written across her face. She was beautiful, more serious than most women he encountered, and she was super successful. And seriously! She had the coolest job. She carried a gun. She had a badge. Her name sounded like a super hero. She was in charge of all the other cops!

He had to know her.

So he tracked her down at her work and asked her out. She turned him down, again. When she turned him down again the next day, his ego was starting to feel the rejection. Rick Castle, once-famous author, didn't have to chase after women. Women loved him. Women threw themselves at him. But Captain Kate was resistant, and it took the next two weeks to wear her down. Finally, finally she'd said yes. Almost begrudgingly, but with an unconscious twirl of her hair that belied her irritation.

She was into him. This was going to be great.

And then he'd fallen asleep on his way to the precinct, the flowers he'd brought were nowhere to be found, and now he was jogging toward the precinct and wracking his brains for an excuse that would work. Oh no, there was no excuse that would work. None. He was going to have to throw himself on the mercy of the court and... huh. If he did that, did she have the power to actually throw him in jail?

Well, it wouldn't be the first time. And it might be kinda hot. She might think it was kinda hot if he was- But no! He was going to have to beg because Captain Kate didn't go for slick and sleaze and his usual playboy routine. He might have to be a little more than that.

Out of breath, Rick paused at the entrance to the 12th precinct to recuperate. Glancing idly around, he noticed that something about the street didn't look quite right. Breathing deeply and wiping the sweat from his forehead, he looked closer, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. Most likely they'd been doing construction, aren't they always, and now that the workers were gone the familiar area looked a little different.

Straightening his tailored, pinstriped jacket and finger combing his bangs so that they'd fall forward over his forehead, he entered the building. When he stepped off of the elevator at her floor he paused. He still didn't have a plan. Worst case scenario, she killed him and hid the body. Best case scenario she tried to ignore him completely. He could work with that. He already had.

He was still standing there, thinking, when he spotted the object of his affection walking right toward him. She looked a little different than usual, and he had time to wonder if she'd gotten her hair cut for their date before he buckled down for what was sure to be an uncomfortable encounter. Kate caught sight of him and smiled, _smiled_ the frightening smile of supremely veiled anger, and approached quickly. She looked around with a sly glance, probably checking to see if there would be witnesses for the murder she was about to commit, and Rick tensed with a grimace.

"Look, I'm sorry-"

Then she kissed him. It was quick but warm with a small touch of her tongue at the corner of his lips before she stepped away with a grin. Rick gaped at her, speechless, absently dragging a thumb over his lower lip to swipe away the moisture there. She glanced around again and tugged needlessly at the hem of her ridiculously conservative button-down. When she looked back at him, it wasn't with anger. It was with curiosity.

"You change your cologne?"

"What? No?" He was so confused. This encounter didn't make any sense.

Kate stepped closer like she was going to kiss him again, and for possibly the first time in his life Rick moved away from a beautiful and willing woman. "Hey, you okay?" Kate asked him with concern. She looked him up and down. "You didn't pick up lunch?" She reached up and combed his bangs back from his forehead in disconcerting familiarity. Was she messing with him?

"No," he choked out. "I'm here to pick you up."

"What?" She sidled a little closer and slung the hand that wasn't caressing his temple around his waist. Suddenly, an angry voice cut across the room.

"Beckett, what the hell?"

Kate whirled away from him to look across the room, hair flying out in a fan, and did a double take. Rick could feel his eyes widen and his head physically jerk on his shoulders. There across the room, apparently in the middle of setting out a smorgasbord of take-out cartons, was him. Or, someone who looked a lot like him. But with less taste. He was wearing plaid.

Captain Kate looked back and forth between the two of them two, three times. Then she jumped away from him in alarm, drawing her weapon and sighting him before he even knew she'd left.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Rick Castle," he said dumbly. For some reason, he suspected it wouldn't be enough. It wasn't.

"No, I'm Richard Castle," the man who looked like him growled, stepping up next to Kate. They both stared at him. Suddenly, every cop in the place was watching, and at least two other detectives were soon flanking her, weapons ready.

"Please don't shoot me." Rick laughed nervously and shifted his weight.

"Beckett," an Hispanic looking cop hissed, "this has got to be a Jerry Tyson double. Another one."

The circle of faces glaring at him were grim with an incorrect assumption he couldn't fathom the depths of. "Guys," he tried, hands lifted in surrender, "I don't know what's going on here. I'm Richard Castle."

"No, you're not," Captain Kate said. "I don't know who you are, but you're not Castle. L.T., pat him down, please."

A uniformed officer approached cautiously but quickly and did as she asked. "He's clean, Detective."

The weapons aimed at him lowered and some of the crowd began to dissipate, though the officers milling back to work were still obviously listening to the exchange.

Just then a sharply dressed black woman stepped off the elevator behind him, glancing up from a file as she passed to give him a look of inborn dislike over black-rimmed glasses. Her eyes flicked back to her reading for a split second before she seemed to take an instinctive stock of the tension in the room. She stopped, looked from him to Kate to that other Rick Castle and back to him again.

"Oh dear Lord, there's two of them." She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, audibly muttering under her breath, before she pointed a finger at Kate. "It was a good idea to keep me in the dark, Detective."

There it was again. _Detective?_

"Sir?" Kate asked.

"Twins," the woman grumbled as if to herself. "Of course Castle has a twin. Of all people."

"I don't have a twin."

"We're not related."

He and his doppelganger spoke at the same time. The other Rick glared at him, and now he was getting annoyed. Who was this Rick to be annoyed at him? Who was this guy to put his arm around Captain Kate as if he knew her like that? Now the new woman looked almost as intrigued as she did annoyed.

"Sir," Kate said again, "this man claims to be Richard Castle."

Frustrated anger was starting to build in his belly. "I am Richard Castle. You know me."

"Dude, _I'm_ Richard Castle."

"Castle," Kate laid a hand on the other man's arm which seemed to soothe him. She turned back to him. "I don't know you."

"Seriously, Captain Kate, I don't know what's going on here, but you know me. I was coming to pick you up for a lunch date."

The other Rick... _Castle_ seemed to sit up straight at that. He leaned forward and stared at him, but without the earlier dislike. Instead, he looked sloppily curious. "Oh my-" he muttered. But the women didn't seem to hear him.

"My only plans for lunch today were take-out over paperwork." She gestured to the cartons on the desk behind her, then turned toward her superior. "Captain," Kate said, "I'm at a loss."

"Sir," the captain who wasn't Kate turned to him. "Do you have any identification?"

Rick nodded eagerly and jammed his hands into his pockets. They were empty. When he looked sheepishly up again, the captain was unimpressed. "Mister... Sir," she caught herself, "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

"Captain Gates," Castle held up a hand to stop them, and the captain gave him a look of oft-tested patience.

"Yes, Mr. Castle?"

"You called her Captain Kate." It was a statement, directed from that other Castle to him. When he nodded, Castle held his fingertips to his mouth in a pathetic imitation of excitement. Seriously, this guy did a really weak impression of him.

"And," Castle continued, "let me guess. When you've met Kate in the past, has she been dressed a little differently? A skirt, more expensive suits, black from head to toe?"

"Castle," Kate hissed. "What are you doing? I've never met him."

"Yes!" Rick interjected before anyone could throw him in lockup. "Yes, she was dressed much nicer than she is now. I'd never have pegged her for that ugly blouse."

"Hey!" Kate glanced down at her own outfit and crossed her arms over her chest, defensive.

"No, Kate, I think I know what's going on here." The other Castle stood and slowly approached him. "I think," he squeaked around the fingertips again pressed to his mouth, "that he's from a different universe!" Then Castle approached and poked him carefully with an outstretched forefinger, as if to make sure he was really there.

Captain... Gates? Captain Gates closed her eyes and slowly pressed the manicured fingers of each hand to her temples. "Lord help us," she muttered. "I need some aspirin."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Got the idea for this while watching the episode of Fringe where the two Astrids meet for the first time, and my title is from a different episode of Fringe as well.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Speaking of Fringe, holy Lance Reddick on Castle, Batman!

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"Are you kidding?" Beckett hissed at Gates, toeing the line between discontent and insubordination. "You want me to take care of him for the night?"

"Sounds good to me," Rick grinned, letting his eyes wander just enough to make his meaning clear. As if it weren't already.

"Dude."

"No."

Castle and Beckett spoke at the same time, and shared a relieved look. They were sickeningly in sync.

"Yes," Gates pressed on. "The man hasn't done anything wrong. He hasn't broken any laws, he hasn't threatened anyone. Other than the multitude of borderline lewd comments, he hasn't even bothered anyone."

"He bothers me," Castle supplied.

"Welcome to my world, Mr. Castle."

Castle had the good sense to look sheepish, but Rick couldn't stop grinning. This was hilarious. Even being cuffed to the desk, this was hilarious.

"Sir," Beckett began again. But Gates held up a hand to stop her. She popped open a bottle of aspirin for at least the third time in as many hours and tossed back two more, without even any water to help them down.

"Detective, if you can think of a reason to keep him in lockup, I'll do it."

There was a long pause while Beckett thought hard and stared at the imposter.

"He's impersonating an officer."

"That guy," Rick noted, "is not an officer."

Gates raised both eyebrows and lifted her shoulders. "He's right. And frankly, we don't have any evidence that he's impersonating anyone. If you want to set him free go ahead, but I think you'd do better to keep an eye on him."

Beckett stood stock still as her captain walked away, and looked at Castle. "What do you think?"

"Actually," Castle stuffed his hands in his pockets, "I think it's kind of cool. Terrifying, but cool."

"Yes!" Rick tried to stand but his cuffs pulled him back to a sitting position. "Terrifying, but awesome. Just what I was thinking."

Castle looked at him with surprise and then turned back to Beckett. "C'mon, Beckett. Can we keep him?"

Beckett rolled her eyes at him, then looked down at Rick. "Well, he is pretty cute."

Rick winked at her, and Castle frowned at him. "Maybe... let's not keep him. Let's try to get him back to his universe as quickly as possible."

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"Listen, do you have any ideas about how to get home, Castle? Well. Alt-Castle? New Castle? I can call you Newcastle," Beckett trailed off, having lost her train of thought in the insanity. She focused on her driving to clear her head of the confusion.

"Call me Rick," he replied, and smiled to himself. How many women had he said that to over the years?

"Noooooooo," Castle moaned, covering his face with his hands. "She can't call you Rick."

"Why not? It's my name." Rick leaned forward to rest his hands on the cruiser's shoulder rests from his spot in the back seat and poked his head between Beckett and Castle. "I'd like to hear her say my name." When Beckett gave him an exasperated look, he grinned at her, twinkling eyes highlighted by the scruff on his face. Beckett's face flushed, just barely visible from his location right behind her, and she turned away to hide a smile.

Castle peeked out from between his fingers and caught him staring at her, still grinning. "Hey! Don't do that!" the other man yelped and swatted at his face until Rick was forced to duck away and lean back in his seat. Castle turned all the way around to glare at him, his expression saying things he probably didn't want Beckett to hear. _She's mine. Hands off. Get your own Beckett._

He may not have said it out loud, but Beckett seemed to have heard him anyway. "Babe, we're okay," she murmured, for Castle's ears but there were no secrets in the quiet sedan. And either way, Rick could see her reach over to tangle her fingers with Castle's. How quaint.

"I only call him Rick when I'm upset," she spoke to Rick again, meeting his eye in the rear-view mirror. "The worst moments between us."

Castle glanced over at her. "And the best." He waggled his eyebrows, his jealousy having dissipated at her touch, then turned around again. "She also calls me Rick when-"

"Hey, no." Beckett interrupted and untangled their fingers with a shake of her wrist, like she was shaking off the words, and sighed loudly. "This is already weird enough. He doesn't need to think about when I... When I call you Rick."

Castle grinned at him with a challenge in his eyes for another beat before settling back in his seat. Rick smirked and looked back out the window, taking in the scenery. So familiar, yet worlds apart. "Hey, I didn't think to ask. You live at Broome and Crosby?"

"Yeah," Castle answered, pointing at the building on the corner. "Penthouse."

"Awesome. All the comforts of home." Still staring out the window, he finally realized why the streets looked strange. "You know, where I come from most of the road markings are yellow, not white."

Castle turned around again, with gleeful interest. "Really? What else is different?"

"You mean other than that in my world there isn't another version of me already living my life but having less fun? Well, I already mentioned that those silly button-all-the-way-to-your-chin blouses aren't in fashion. Thank God." He felt the right side of his mouth creep up in a smirk when he could see Beckett run a hand absently over her shirt.

"Well," Castle laughed, "they aren't really in fashion here, either."

Beckett, having just parked the cruiser, slammed the vehicle into park and turned a scowling face to her partner. "Seriously?"

"Oh, no, Kate, I meant... I meant..." Castle stumbled, but Rick's laughing interrupted him.

He slapped a hand down on his knee and rocked back with his hilarity. What a dufus to say something like that. What a dumb dumb. A plaid-wearing, clean-shaven dufus who follows this super-hot detective around like a puppy just to annoy her when she is clearly so willing to be seduced.

"Oh, man," he wheezes, struggling to control himself. "That's good to hear. If I get caught in this world it would be such a bummer to deal with all those buttons!"

The driver's side door slammed shut when Kate... Beckett got out and stalked across the garage. "Uh, give us one second," Castle mumbled before he flailed free of his seatbelt and followed her out. Rick waited for ten whole seconds before following them. Plenty of time for privacy later, he figured. Snippets of Beckett's angry words and Castle's soothing undertones made their way to him as he stretched beside the car, feigning disinterest.

"I wish you'd just said something," Beckett ground out from between clenched teeth. Her arms were crossed defensively, and when Castle reached out to touch her she stepped away. "I mean, if you think what I'm wearing is ugly you might as well tell me so I can prevent myself the embarrassment of walking around-"

She might have gone on, but this time Castle snagged her arm and cupped a hand to her cheek despite her efforts to avoid him.

"Kate," he murmured, and suddenly Rick felt like he was intruding. Something more than a poor choice in outfits was passing between them, and he felt like a voyeur. But it was entrancing, watching this other-him and this other-Kate interact, like a window into his future. So he watched, and listened.

"Kate, you're beautiful no matter what you wear."

Beckett rolled her eyes and huffed. "Even when I wear this ugly shirt. All of these ugly shirts that I have that look just like this."

"They're not ugly. They're... conservative."

Rick choked down a laugh, not wanting to interrupt.

"You haven't always worn them. But that guy," Castle gestured over toward Rick. His eyes widened in annoyance when he discovered him watching unashamedly, and he flipped a hand at him. _Go away._ Yeah, right. "That guy," Castle growled, "he doesn't know why you started wearing them. He doesn't know you. I know you."

Rick watched curiously as the cryptic words seemed to work some kind of magic and Beckett finally looked at Castle. "I didn't know you noticed."

"Of course I did. After you were shot I-"

"You were shot?" Rick asked in wonder, forgetting for a moment to pretend he wasn't listening. Castle glared again and Beckett looked over in surprise, as if she'd forgotten he was still there. "Where?"

Beckett stepped away from Castle and tugged self-consciously at her top. "At Arlington," she replied, avoiding eye contact, but he watched with a surprisingly heartfelt pang as she pressed the heel of one hand against the center of her chest. But what she unconsciously indicated seemed impossible, who could survive that? Beckett dropped her hand and tipped her head toward the doorway behind her. "Come on, Rick'n'Castle. Let's go up."

Rick followed a step behind as they entered the loft, preparing himself for the shock of seeing his own loft lived in by different people. But when he looked around, he realized that only the bare bones were the same. The loft was decorated differently. There were no gauche Martha touches, and yet the place seemed homier in general. A little more lived in, a little more loved.

"Huh," he said, absently brushing his bangs down as he looked around. Castle and Beckett were dropping things in the kitchen and reaching immediately for wine, but Rick stood rooted near the doorway. He felt like he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone. "So," he called, hesitantly, "is Mother... Mother doesn't live here?"

"Oh, she does," Castle responded as he filled a wine glass for each of them. "Hurricane Martha will be blowing through some time tonight. Alexis, too."

"Oh, she's in town?"

"She lives here. Well, she goes to Columbia, but mostly she lives here."

"Huh."

Suddenly some of the fun of this situation was draining away. This wasn't home, no matter what it looked like. Beckett approached him slowly and offered him his share of the wine with a sympathetic smile. "This all sinking in?"

"Yeah." He looked at the glass in his hand. "Actually, do you have any whiskey?"

"We do, come on." She grabbed his hand for an instant, habit and familiarity confusing her logic, but let it go right away.

He grinned at her cheekily and leaned closer so he could speak softly into her hair. "You know, once he's asleep, if you want to have a good time... HEY! OW!" Rick ducked and grappled at his ear, which she had caught in a vice grip.

"I was trying to be nice," she barked at him, twisting the surely damaged cartilage of his ear until he was bent over and spinning to try to ease up the pressure.

"Peaches! PEACHES!"

The pain stopped immediately, and he straightened slowly, rubbing the side of his head where he hoped his ear was still attached. He couldn't really feel it anymore.

"Peaches?" Castle asked as he approached. "Pretty soft, dude." Beckett lifted an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. "Oh, let me guess," Castle continued, "you like peaches, right Beckett?"

"What?"

"Oh don't deny it," Castle griped, "you've been flirting with him since he arrived."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No! I saw you blushing in the car and twirling your hair at the precinct. You like him."

"He's a jerk!" Beckett jabbed a finger in his direction, then balled her fists at her side as she glared up at him. "And now you're being one!"

Rick turned and started to argue that he wasn't a jerk, but shrugged and wandered away from the bickering couple. Their voices followed him, but he focused on the bookshelf in front of him. He picked up a book that this Castle had apparently written, _Heat Wave_ , and flipped it over to read the superlatives on the back.

This thing was a hit. He flipped the first page open and read a few paragraphs, and then he got it. He looked up, grinning, and walked back over to Beckett and Castle who were standing nose to nose while they argued.

"Well if you had _just told me_ that you thought I looked like an old spinster librarian before this guy arrived-"

"Oh. My. God. Kate, I never said-"

"Hey," Rick waved the book at them to interrupt the tirade. "Are you Nikki Heat?"

He thought they would laugh about it, that she might blush and smile and admit to it. Instead, the detective groaned loudly, smacked her Castle soundly in the chest and threw both of her hands out in a gesture of long-suffered frustration. Wine sloshed dangerously in her glass, but remained contained, even when she stomped back to the kitchen.

Castle looked at Rick with a hangdog expression, and sighed. "You had to bring that up, did you?"

"I thought she must have been flattered."

"You'd think, wouldn't you?" He didn't wait for an answer, though, and followed Beckett into the kitchen. Rick, not knowing what else to do, plopped down onto the couch and flipped open the Nikki Heat novel again. He might as well get his own inspiration in case he ever got home.

He'd only read a page or two, sometimes lowering the book to listen to the continued bickering from the host couple, when the sound of a key turning in the lock caught his attention. Somehow, the other two heard it too, and when the door opened Beckett had one Castle on each side of her and an expectant grimace on her face.

Martha and Alexis entered in a flurry of chatter and shopping bags, and Rick had enough time to feel a heartwarming little thud when he saw Alexis. This one hadn't gone Goth. Then they looked over at their welcoming crowd, and froze. Then all kinds of chaos broke loose.

They screamed in unison, Alexis' hands flying to her cheeks and Martha advancing with her bright orange purse raised as a weapon. Castle jumped over and took hold of her purse before she could attempt to do any real harm with it.

"Hey!" "No, Martha..." "Mother, no, it's alright..." Their voices fell all over each other and they stumbled to a halt, staring quietly until Martha spoke up.

"Richard Castle, what is going on here? I can't even imagine..."

"I can't even," Alexis repeated, eyes as wide as saucers as they bounced back and forth between the doppelgangers.

Beckett sucked her lower lip into her mouth and walked over. She handed a stunned Martha her own wine glass before plucking Castle's out of his grip and handing it to Alexis. They each took a sip without thinking, and Beckett took the opportunity to try to explain.

"Hey, guys. Look, this is going to sound crazy. Maybe it is crazy, the jury is still out. But this other Castle, as far as we can tell, well, he's from another universe, and he's going to be staying here tonight." She clasped her hands in front of her and waited.

Alexis set her glass down with a thud, spilling some over the edge. She stared at Beckett, searching for some evidence of a joke, and found none. Martha, on the other hand, looked each of them in the eye, downed her entire glass in three big gulps, and wiped her mouth with a gloved hand.

"This is terrible," she said finally. "Just terrible."

Castle frowned. "You know, I'm beginning to think you guys don't like me as much as you say you do."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! One more part, though I'll probably update He's Armed before I put the last bit of this out. I'd love to know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : As always, sorry for the delay. I've been working all of the work and learning all of the learnin'. This is the final chapter of this weird thing. Hope it hasn't been too hard to follow, and hope you like it!

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Castle frowned. "You know, I'm beginning to think you guys don't like me as much as you say you do."

Beckett laughed nervously and patted his arm. "It's not you, babe. It's just the shock."

Martha held her empty wine glass out to Kate, "Refill, Darling, if you don't mind," and looked back at Rick and Castle. She waggled her outstretched forefinger between them, finally stopping pointed at Castle, like a needle drawn to north. "You are my son," she declared. Then she glared at Rick. "Who are you?"

"I'm Rick Castle."

Martha and Alexis both inhaled deeply, preparing for long-winded denials, but Beckett cut them short.

"No!" Beckett handed Martha another glass full and held up a hand. "Let's not do this again, shall we? He," she turned back to the redheads and sighed dramatically, "is from another universe." She spoke with surprising certainty in the face of such ridiculousness.

Alexis finally picked her jaw up off of the ground and moved up next to her grandmother. "You said that already," she muttered absently. Her eyes were still darting back and forth between the two men. "It's like," she spoke louder and flapped a hand at them, "it's like one of them is from now, and one is from ten years ago."

Rick grinned and nodded, flattered. "I have aged well."

"Not what I meant," Alexis responded, and moved toward the living room. Rick's grin faded, but they all followed her. When Alexis sat, they all sat. Castle and Beckett and Martha on one couch, Alexis and Rick each in a chair. In the brief silence, they could all hear the resounding tick, tock of the clock on the mantle.

Discomforted by the sudden silence, Rick rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. "But I have aged well." Beckett and Castle gave him twin looks of exhaustion, and he let it go. It was redundant anyway. His presence was evidence enough. He sat back and glanced around. "So, obviously I'm here for a little while. Where should I sleep?"

"Actually, let's focus on getting you home," Castle grouched, still cranky at the general reaction of his family to the multiple hims.

"Fine," Rick said, leaning back and taking a sip of the whiskey he'd forgotten about. "You were over there. How'd you get back?"

Castle rubbed a hand over his jaw and glanced sidelong at Beckett. "Well, I was shot."

"What?" Beckett turned toward him with wide eyes. "Why didn't you tell me that? Are you okay? Did it hurt? You seemed okay..."

"I'm fine. I didn't want to worry you." He held her gaze for a moment and squeezed her fingers between his. "And remember, we sort of thought I'd just had a crazy dream."

"Anyway, lovebirds," Rick laughed, "no one here is going to shoot me, so I think-"

"Give it time." "Don't be so sure." "She does have a gun."

The answers tripped over each other, jumbling, but he got the gist. Rick rubbed his neck and chuckled nervously.

"Don't laugh, Alt-Castle," Beckett said, pointedly. "Remember next time you leer at me that I am carrying a weapon."

Castle leaned over, eyes still on Rick, and muttered, "Props for the sci-fi nickname."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"How can I not leer at you, Detective? You're just so damn sexy, so full of Nikki _Heat_..."

Alexis recoiled in visible disgust, but Martha laughed at that and tipped her glass toward Rick. "That she is, sir."

"Gram! Don't encourage him."

"I'll try not to." Her wide smile suggested otherwise.

Castle lifted a lip in a little condescending sneer. "I don't know how you could say that he was me from ten years ago. I was never like that."

Alexis snorted, and Beckett gave him a look. She gave him _the_ look. "You must be kidding."

"No," he declared, over-playing his hurt feelings with a hand at his heart.

"Castle."

"I was never like that!" Somehow, they were both standing now. The bickering that was paused when Alexis and Martha came in reappeared at full force.

"You were like that for the whole first year I knew you! Longer, really, if you count-"

"You're delirious, Kate, if you think I ever was so disrespectful to you as he has been-"

"You hit on me every day! You made my life miserable!"

"Don't even tell me you weren't flattered, you were into me, too!"

Beckett laughed derisively, and threw her hands in the air. "You took every opportunity to 'accidentally' touch my ass-"

"Ewwwww." Alexis moaned and put her head in her hands, and Martha rubbed a comforting palm over her shoulders.

"That was _always_ an accident!"

"Seriously, Rick?"

The harsh syllables of his first name spitting through her teeth reverberated sharply, and then silence fell.

"Huh," Rick muttered, interrupting the awkward silence, and the family turned to stare at him. He shrugged and gestured at the fighting couple. "You do call him Rick when you're mad."

Castle moved to sit down again, but Beckett wasn't done. "But I guess," she growled, "you stopped being so overcome by your desire for me that you needed to touch me all the time when I started dressing like an old spinster!"

"Are you...? Seriousl...? I can't...! You! What? So! I!" Castle turned back to her with comically wide eyes, sputtering. "I NEVER SAID THAT!" He stabbed a finger at Rick. "He said that!"

"It's fine, Rick," Beckett snapped off his name again. She spun on her heel and marched into the bedroom. "I can fix it," she called over her shoulder.

"There's nothing to fix!" Castle stared after her, mouth open, but when it was clear she wasn't coming back right away he held his clenched hands in front of him and mimed strangling her.

"Richard," Martha reprimanded in a low voice, hiding her laugh behind her drink. Castle growled at her, a cutting phrase without words, and followed his fiancée.

Martha, Alexis, and Rick watched them go.

"So," Rick glanced at Alexis. "Has your hair always been red or did you change it back recently?"

Alexis stared at him. "Change it back?"

"My Alexis, her hair is black."

"Black!" Alexis looked horrified.

Martha took another sip from her wine glass, a little tipsy where she sat, and cackled. "Oh, no, black hair would look terrible on you!" She hiccupped.

"Yeah," Rick agreed, and then shriveled when they glared at him. "I mean, she's a pretty girl. But the red is nicer. Natural."

Martha and Alexis softened together at his tone, and let him off the hook.

"Why'd she change it in the first place?" Alexis wondered, carefully removing the precariously held glass from her grandmother's grasp.

"Rebellion?" It wasn't an answer so much as a question, but it was the best Rick could come up with.

"Oh," Alexis nodded and sat back. She crossed one leg over the other, crossed her arms over her chest, and judged him. "Because you never grew up. I get it."

Rick swallowed and averted his gaze. "I might prefer surly and Goth to all knowing and blunt." Dealing with this Alexis, the one who looked like she could read right through him, was decidedly uncomfortable. Choosing to change the subject, Rick glanced toward the master bedroom. "Are they always like this?"

Martha cackled again, bringing a hand down to her knee with a loud slap. Alexis and Rick both jumped, and Rick gave her an amused grin. This, he recognized. "Honey," Martha grinned at him and swayed, "you seem to have brought out the best in this couple."

Just then, a door slammed, and Castle wandered back to the great room. He looked equal parts annoyed and chastised.

"So," Rick said cheerily. "Not getting any tonight, am I right?"

Alexis groaned and deflated into Martha's side, knocking her almost all the way over. Castle looked like he wanted to be angry, but instead he just shrugged. "Nope."

"Oh, Dad."

Castle shrugged again. At that moment, Beckett reemerged from the bedroom in skinny jeans and a blood red sweater with a deep, deep v-neck. Castle's eyebrows raised and Rick sat forward, craning his head around to get the best view.

"This should be good," Martha laughed.

"Like it?" Beckett directed her question to Martha, who saluted jauntily, but both Rick and Castle nodded silently. "See, this way, I can be comfortable," she continued in a purposefully low voice and ran her hands over what Rick assumed to be the really soft fabric, "but both of you can still get an eyeful."

Her hands stopped a the same time the silk in her voice evaporated, and Rick jerked his eyes away from her chest in time to see her huff at him. Well, huff at them. Castle was staring, too.

"Uh, that's our cue to leave," Alexis announced, standing abruptly and dragging Martha up with her. "No strip tease for us."

Beckett had the good grace to blush, but Martha shook her head. "No shame, Sweety," she announced and clapped Beckett on the back with vigor.

"Come on, Gram," Alexis tugged her toward the doorway. "Maybe if we leave and come back, it will be like this never happened."

She helped her tipping grandmother away from the awkward threesome. "You won't let her drive?" Castle called as they were leaving.

Alexis rolled her eyes, but there was a look of endearment on her face as well. "We'll walk, Dad."

So, Rick thought, even in justifiable discomfort, this father-daughter team worked together. Interesting. Maybe when he got home he could try and talk to his own daughter. Maybe. He watched them leave, and a strange sense of heaviness settled over him. The redheads had provided a much needed distraction from the problem at hand, but with them gone there was nothing else to occupy his mind.

In the sudden quiet, Beckett adjusted her top. She looked uncomfortable now that the irrational annoyance had left her, and Rick watched as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. And then his eyes wandered, just a little, and he was about to make some comment to lighten the mood, something lewd, when he noticed the little divot right in the center of her sternum. Like a three-dimensional thumbprint, it caught his eye, and when Beckett noticed she brought one hand up to her chest and turned away, shoulder's hunched.

What had Castle said? "When you were shot..."

Oh.

So it was serious, then. Rick suddenly sat straight up and smacked his forehead with a more force than was quite necessary and then dragged the hand, still stinging, through his hair. All those button-up shirts. Well, crap. He hated when he was a jerk and didn't even realize it. He glanced at Castle, and found him watching the silent interaction with a hooded, knowing look. One corner of the man's lip raised in a tiny smile of solidarity and understanding, then he hooked an arm around Beckett's waist and kissed her cheek.

"You look great." It was sweet, softly spoken, and intimate. Rick looked away, giving them the illusion of privacy. He heard Beckett make a noise that could only be described as snuffling, and then Castle was murmuring to her, so soft Rick couldn't make out the words.

"Yeah," Beckett responded. "I'm tired. Bedtime. Sleep." When Rick looked up she was regarding him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "We'll have to figure out some way to send you home that doesn't include shooting you. It's no fun."

She headed to the bedroom, and Rick watched as Castle followed. There was a quiet flutter of motion, sheets and pillows were produced, and Rick helped Castle make up the couch. It wasn't late, but all three were ready to sleep and try again the next day. Rick plopped down onto the couch and said his goodnights. Then he watched with amusement as Beckett stopped Castle at the threshold to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" She asked, brow raised.

"Um." Castle tilted his head on his shoulders. "Going to bed?"

"Not in here you aren't."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously Castle. You aren't getting any tonight."

"But the couch?"

"For the, 'Those aren't in fashion here, either' comment. Yeah, the couch."

"C'mon..." Castle was clearly just winding up, wheedling, but Rick watched Beckett clamp her hand over his mouth.

"No. Couch. Go."

"But," Castle glanced over at Rick. " _He's_ there."

"Make it work." With that, Beckett shut the bedroom door in his face, and Castle turned around to face the living room.

He scowled. "No pajamas or anything. This is your fault."

Rick laughed. "Hardly. She looks like a lot of work."

On the other side of the bedroom door, Beckett pressed her ear to the solid wood. She was exhausted, but curiosity of what exactly these two would talk about once alone was overwhelming, and she listened in with only the slightest tint of shame. Castle's response was muffled through the barrier, but clear.

"Sometimes. Worth it, though."

"Worth all this drama? The shooting, which I can just tell is a lot more than a random cop shooting, it's written all over your face. Worth all of that heartache?"

"Of course," Castle responded. "She's amazing."

Beckett grinned, the curve of her cheek smudging the door, and pushed away. She already loved the man. That was enough reminder of his heart for one night.

Rick shook his head at Castle. "There are plenty of amazing women who aren't so much work."

"Wrong." Castle looked around and sighed. "I guess I'll sleep on the loveseat. Anyway, the amazing ones should be more work." He glanced at Rick while he tried to get comfortable, smashing pillows and contorting to fit onto the smaller couch. "You should know, your captain isn't an easy woman."

"Captain Kate is awesome," Rick responded, kicking back onto his makeshift bed and lacing his fingers behind his head. "She does have that same heaviness, though. Said she didn't even know if she was in the right career."

Castle looked over with interest. "Really?"

"Something about not being able to solve the crime that led her to being a cop in the first place. Said she wanted to be a lawyer."

Castle sat up abruptly, untangling himself from his bed of muscle cramps. "She never solved it?" He didn't wait for an answer, just stood and left the room. Rick was left to wonder at the strange reaction, but not for long. When Castle reemerged from his office, he was holding a thick manila envelope and wearing a look of indecision.

"What's that?" Rick asked, more curious about Castle's attitude than the information in his hand.

"This... this is probably a major personal violation. When I met your Captain, she never said she hadn't solved this case."

"You know who did it? Whodunit?" Rick sat up again, eyeing the envelope. "I could solve her life-long mystery? Man, I could be her white knight in shining pinstripes. Is that how you two got together?"

"Actually," Castle sighed, and that heaviness he'd seen in each Kate Beckett was on his face now, "it's how we spent a summer apart and almost never became friends. She told me not to dig into it, but I couldn't resist. It..." he swallowed thickly and ran his hands over the edges of the paperwork, "it led to her shooting, to her captain's death, to a whole world of terrible things."

Rick eyed him warily. "Then shouldn't I just let sleeping dogs lie?"

"Well," Castle hedged, "this would be different. All of that misery was in the finding, and the searching. But here, I could tell you right now who killed her mom."

"Her _mom_?" The words rang like devastation in his head, but they made so many things clear as well. "I have to know. If I can tell her, I have to know." Rick took the file from Castle's willing hands and flipped through, quickly, scanning. "Oh... Senator Bracken? Woah. That guy is running for president."

Castle watched as Rick continued to peruse the information, nodding. There was a serious look on Rick's face that hadn't presented before. This guy, he was a jerk but he was still Richard Castle, and he was taking this seriously. Castle nodded to himself. This was the right move.

"Rick, read that stuff. Learn it. Memorize it. Write it on your hands in marker, whatever. Thank about what she," he gestured toward his bedroom, "and your Beckett have been through. Realize that when you open this can of worms, it will still be dangerous, and that the playboy thing isn't going to be enough to get you through it. You have to be better, for her, for her mom, for everyone who's been hurt in this nightmare. She's going to need help and support. Now," he folded himself back into the loveseat, "let me fall asleep first, because I know you snore." Castle closed his eyes.

Rick barely glanced up from the file. "Of course you do," he muttered. "I'll just read a little longer."

Silence fell, interrupted only by the scrape of pages being flipped and turned and earmarked, and Castle could feel sleep edging in. "And in the morning," he continued sleepily, "you can make us all smorelettes, okay? 'Cause it's going to take me most of the day to stand up again after sleepin' here. M'kay?" Silence. "Okay?" He asked again. No answer. He rolled over and peeled his sleepy eyes open so he could make his point more forcefully.

"Listen, you have to make breakf-" Castle sat up, wide eyed.

Rick was gone, and so was the file.

.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! It always bothered me that Castle never told Alt-Beckett about Bracken, so this is my own personal fix-it. Let me know what you think!


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